&#make better years from bitter days;;just look around#&

Hello sunshines, loyal readers, the ones the stats tell me have been checking back here waiting on some post, some new rant, something, anything! I haven’t written in ages. I don’t think you could really count my last post almost two months ago as writing either. Cheap post. I don’t know why I stopped writing; I think I ran out of steam. Life caught up with me. It has been an eventful two months, filled with very high ups and very very low downs, but that is a story for another day. Well sort of.

A few weeks ago The Pursuit of Happyness was on TV. I personally love this movie, I love any movies that are based on true stories, because for someone’s life to be made into a movie, it must have been interesting/inspirational to begin with. Regardless, it prompted me to stick this to my wall:

“Will it make us happy?”

Pursuing happiness can be taken in so many ways. If you told someone you were pursuing happiness within your life, I’m sure they would react positively to this. If you then informed them that you weren’t going to do something unless it would bring you happiness, I’m sure you’d be called selfish. I guess there’s a balance. Personally, I generally would like to try to live with a certain attitude, being that if something doesn’t make you happy, or isn’t necessary to make you happy in the long term, it just isn’t worth it. Life is passing us by too quickly to screw around with it. It isn’t the endless hours of work you will remember in years to come, it’s the days spent in the sun with friends drinking at the beach, laughing til you cry and getting disapproving looks from adults (sounds cliched, but it happened). So what the hell are we [am I] doing?

The Self-Imposed Eugenics Movement

Strange? Yes.

Does it really, technically, apply? No.

Yet it’s the phrase that has been floating round my head for a while now, and as such it is what I call this.

We have this ridiculous set of values that we have identified as necessary to be happy, and they just plain aren’t. We’re supposed to get good marks, we’re supposed to be rich, even if we’re not famous, we’re supposed to be beautiful (which in turn means skinny for people like me, because no matter how much people say that curves are beautiful, fat isn’t – there’s a significant difference), we’re supposed to get great jobs and be successful and have a loving nuclear family, perhaps with a labrador in tow. This is what we are pursuing. This is the societal pursuit of happiness. But who decided this? I would like to be able to blame someone, some high-up chauvinistic elderly white male who made this decision for us. The problem is, we made this decision for ourselves. We let these ideals be imposed upon us by the sheer fact that we made them up. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of feeling inadequate at school because even though I’m bright, I don’t work, I’m sick of having to tell people that no, we cannot buy my dad out of his share of the house, and yes, we are moving into something much much smaller and generally worse than our current home which I love and have loved for many years, I’m sick of this eating disorder I have brought upon myself, I’m sick of the pressure to get into that particular uni course, I’m sick of people thinking that because my parents are divorced I’ve become a charity case.

I am sick of ideals.

I just want the world to go away and come back when it is more accepting of people where everything hasn’t just gone right, right in the way society wants things to go, because we should just stop kidding ourselves that we are.

______________________________

{that was more bitter than anticipated; promise more optimism in the future!}

&#and i’m sure you’re on your way;;yes i’m sure you’re on the road#&

I spent all of last night and all of this morning reading a book; Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher. Fascinating in a somewhat morbid sort of way, it’s the (fictional) story of Hannah Baker, a girl who has committed suicide. Before doing so, she records 13 tapes explaining the parts that 13 (or maybe 12, I think the first might be more of an intro) different people had to play in her decision and sends them out to the first person, to be listened to and passed on, so that all those people who affected her in some way would know that they did.

It was the sort of book that you don’t want to put down (figuratively, I guess, seeing as how I was actually reading it on the computer), but you need to occasionally walk away from it because it is just too heavy to take in all at once. Spend an hour doing something that requires no thought whatsoever before coming back to it.

It is amazing to think about how much all the small things you do or say can affect people, either positively or negatively. It all has the ability to snowball and impact on someone’s life so much more than you would expect. Something to be thought about more carefully than I currently do anyway. Stop and bother to find out what’s going on in people’s lives. Most just want someone else to show that they care. We never know who our own Hannah Baker is going to be.

&#masquerade;;paper faces on parade;;hide your face so the world will never find you#&

You mention I seem withdrawn,

I tell you it’s just school;

it isn’t.

I say I’m fine;

I’m not.

I eat a chocolate from the box which I carry round, the ever-present temptation

while I think about whether vinegar really does work as an appetite suppressant

(despite the fact that I never even have an appetite – but just in case).

You notice I never bring lunch,

I tell you I always run out of time in the morning;

you make time for what you want

(and bringing no food and no money forces me not to eat).

You say I look tired,

I tell you I stayed up doing work;

I didn’t

(this is just what the body looks like when you don’t pay the right attention to it).

You tell me to put a jumper on, that I look freezing,

I say I’m not cold;

I am

(I’m just trying to prove to myself that I haven’t changed, that I haven’t screwed myself up).

You tell me to smile,

I do;

only to please you

(I’d rather hide).

You say you don’t have the time,

I don’t want the time;

here

(have mine).

&#taking all your money to the grave;;it does no good to anyone;;especially the one you’re trying to save#&

I like to think that at some point in my life something will happen which vaguely resembles a scene from a movie, just so I can say that it happened. That’s an irrelevant thought but I figured I’d throw it in.

There’s a lady who catches my train in the morning. Day in, day out, she is there. She has really long hair which she always wears in a plait, probably about mid-40s, always with the same round sunglasses and a different trashy romance novel everyday (sero she must have the biggest collection or really be a dedicated library-goer). Now I just introduced that statement with “a lady who catches my train”, emphasis on the my. What makes it my train? Well, nothing, really. Except that it is my life and therefore everything I choose within it is mine. The train I regularly catch becomes mine, and she is a commuter on my train. But what if I am actually a commuter on hers? She could say the same about me; every day on her train there is this teenage girl wearing a uniform who carries a black backpack and steps onto the train, looks around the carriage whilst putting in her red ipod and then whips out something to read. The point I am making is that everything in our lives, naturally, revolves around ourselves. I get off the train at Kogarah and that is my daily encounter with the trashy-novel-lady over. But that isn’t her day over! She does not exist solely in relation to me! What a revelation. Everyone is so completely interconnected and completely disconnected at the same time. I see this lady every day, it would be weird if she wasn’t there, and for the 25 minutes we spend on the same train each morning, our frame of reference is the same. After that, she has a life completely unconnected from mine over which I exert absolutely no influence. All my teachers; I know so much about them, and them me, and yet in the end, our lives are not connected. Well they are, to an extent, but it’s like a network of connections, and essentially, without that one link, we will go on without each other just fine. It’s an odd thought, and not particularly comforting on an egotistical level, but when you think about it; knowing that greater society will not suffer from your disappearance is quite good.

In other news, I’m completely in love with Brandi Carlile atm :)

&#may angels lead you in;;hear you me, my friends;;on sleepless roads the sleepless go;;may angels lead you in#&

Dear ###,
We have known each other so long. I will never be as good at making friends as you. I will never be as popular as you. I will never work as hard as you. Please; the underhanded competition is getting old. Let me be who I am without giving me the feeling that you disapprove of so much I do.

Dear ###,
I never meant to do that to you. If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t. Thankyou for understanding. You will be fine. Life will get better. I promise.

Dear ###,
Leave her. She is no good for you. She is making you unhappy. Don’t give up on love because she’s a bitch- you have so much to give to someone else. It’ll happen when the time’s right. You need to see that your happiness doesn’t come from being in a relationship; you have to be happy with yourself before you can let someone else in.

Dear ###,
You have it so easy. I think, anyway. Maybe there is something else going on that I don’t know about, but I don’t think so. I used to wish my life would be as blessed as yours. I don’t anymore. Everything I’ve gone through has made me who I am (and I think I’m more interesting than you now!)

Dear ###,
You have changed so much. I’m so glad; you’re a fantastic person. You deserve your happiness. Please love yourself like I love you.

Dear ###,
I wish I had your faith.

Dear ###,
I don’t know whether we have drifted or not. Perhaps we have. I used to talk to you so easily, now conversation seems fragmented and shallow. I think you can be really petty. Still, I don’t want to lose you.

Dear ###,
I don’t know why I love you so much, but I do. You make me so happy whenever I’m with you. Thankyou for being who you are, and never apologising for it.

Dear ###,
Work to your potential. You are smart, really smart. Apply yourself. Don’t just wander through life, because you are going to be brilliant. I can already see your name in the lights.

Dear ###,
You should’ve loved me.

Dear ###,
You really screwed up. I can’t forgive you, not yet anyway. You’re horribly selfish.

Dear ###,
I admire you so much. You are one of the strongest people I know. Get over him; he wasn’t good enough for you.

Dear ###,
Everything about you is so complicated, but I don’t mind.

Dear ###,
I would’ve never thought we’d still be here. You are one of the best people I know. I don’t know if you realise how much I admire and appreciate you. You’re one of my best friends. Thankyou- I can always count on you to really care.

Dear ###,

Everyone else loves you. You owe it to yourself to do the same. You will be successful, whatever you do. Don’t let yourself be less than you know you can be. I believe in you.

xxc.

&#dear future;;i bought you;;i own the rights;;to let go;;destroy you;;this is my life#&

(una)
wonderment is everywhere
as she makes her way forward
the first step
so unsteady
but so determined
{she will get there}

(duae)
fairies in the garden are
enough to excite sparks in the
brown eyes that
REFLECT|TCELFER
light like a mirror
untainted
by images of destruction
or by promises
broken
like the doll she
d
r
o
p
p
e
d
on the pavement
c/r/a/c/k
the tears that followed
merely trickling
compared to the river that will
RUSH
later
she knows no later
not yet
{she will get there}

(tres)
bright red lips
complement the vibrant blue shadow
that covers the lids of her eyes
in a shade that does no justice to the
beauty of her natural iris
she doesn’t feel pretty
but she does feel
grown up
finally
maybe the boys will notice
they didn’t today
they will tonight
{she will get there}

(quattuor)
she is flying
high like a bird
high on the swings
high on more than life
she
s
l
i
p
s
another of that
which brings on
#oBLiVioN#
after all
who needs to remember
who wants to remember
when life is like this
?
freedom is so
close
when you have
the key
{she will get there}

(quinque)
her body is not hers
as he takes
control
it is easier to do this when
he doesn’t love you
if you don’t
love yourself
if she is not good for anything else
she is good for this
{she will get there}

(sex)
she bends
double
over that which serves
as a portal
into another world
a world of
grace
finesse
beauty
her tears mix angrily with
her hateful habit
the monster
seizes her
again
“just once more”
once more for beauty
once more for perfection
{she will get there}

(septem)
she breaks
the heart
of he who struggled
so hard
to keep her
happy
she wants him to go away
she doesn’t need him
she doesn’t need anybody
she’s fine.
leave her alone
{she will get there}

(octo)
all childish innocence
has gone
disappeared
like her
body
withering like her
and the
dreams
she held for herself
so long ago
when fairies
were still at the bottom of the garden
{she might not get there}

(novem)
she lies
d
o
w
n
how do they do it?
how do they keep themselves
up
?
it is so much
effort
she is so tired
she is so sick
of it
all
{she won’t get there}

(decem)
-Anon-
Suddenly.
Aged 21 years.
We will never forget our angel
who has flown back to Heaven.
“A ray of sunshine in a world filled with darkness.”
Family and friends are invited to attend
a memorial service at 11 o’clock on Monday morning.
No flowers by request, donations can instead
be made to the BeyondBlue Organisation. Thankyou.

-

-

-

[Leila, if you read this - I wrote this before reading your notes on FB haha. No intent to steal ideas, I guess we just write similarly, though obviously with completely different levels of skill lol :) ]

&#and i could write a book;;the one they’ll say that shook the world;;and then it took;;it took it back from me#&

__________________________________________

I had intended to write this and leave it closed so no one could read it, but then I was talking to a friend about its contents and realised she felt exactly the same way about a lot of it – for this reason, I am opening most of my previously-passworded posts. Maybe some day someone will read them and realise that they are not alone in their pain.

__________________________________________

I think it can be safely assumed that, for most teenage girls (and guys too, I guess, though that area is generally not where my experience lies), the body and appearance are an issue; for some though, it is much more constant and plaguing than it is for others.

We live in such a superficial world that these kind of thoughts are rather inevitable, but it’s also because of this that certain people feel like they are not “allowed” to have these thoughts, and that’s where I’m going with this: I feel guilty for thinking that I need to lose weight when I know my body, really, is fine anyway, or so I am told. It’s as if it is wrong of me to even contemplate the desire when other people have worse bodies than I do. But why shouldn’t I be allowed to feel like this? I can’t help it, so why should I have to feel guilty as well? Do they think that I want to be like this? This constant swinging between thinking my body is fine, and being filled with self-loathing?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me though; I know my body is fine. I know other people think my body is fine. And yet I still hate it.

People say that if I want to lose weight, I just need to be really healthy and do lots of exercise. Well what if I’m already doing that and it’s not coming off? Is it necessary to cut absolutely everything bad out of my diet? That’s no fun. I used to have times where I’d say I’d be really healthy, and it would last for about a week, until I had one bad thing; then I just thought “Oh well, I’ve already had that,” and it would just spiral downwards, which leaves you feeling worse than before, because now you have the guilt of knowing you failed.

My answer last year was to starve myself. It wasn’t really a conscious decision; I just started skipping meals. Often I would go through an entire day only having eaten a very small amount of dinner – the only meal my mum was there to see me eat. It lasted for a number of months. And to be honest, it was the best my body’s ever been. I am in no way saying this is the best option, but for me, it did what the other conventional methods didn’t – it worked. Yet I still knew I couldn’t do it forever; even though I didn’t feel bad about doing it, I still knew I shouldn’t be, and I didn’t want to become that girl with the eating disorder.

Earlier this year I was choking on some food and I had to force myself to throw up. As I did, fleetingly it went through my head “That wasn’t hard, you could do that,” but I immediately felt guilty for even thinking it, because even though it seemed like a plausible option for a moment, I knew it really wasn’t. The thing that I hated most about that moment though was why I knew I couldn’t – I didn’t want to screw up my HSC. I hated myself so much for my reasoning, but there it is, plain and simple. I stopped myself from heading down a very dark path not because of a love for myself or because I knew subconsciously it was wrong, I stopped because I wanted to do well in some exams, and I knew throwing up all my meals wouldn’t allow that.

This post isn’t going to end in some revelation about how I realised you just have to live with what you’ve got and accept your body for what it is and love yourself and all the crap – I still don’t believe it. I just needed to write this all down somewhere, because carrying all this agony around can only be adding to my weight.

&#on the back of a motorbike;;with your arms outstretched trying to take flight#&

I think for a long time I have been trying to be someone I’m not. Not to impress anyone, not for any reason except that I want to be someone who I am not. Finally I think I’ve come to terms with myself, and my dreams, and I will realise them. I refuse to settle for less than what I want, and no one can make me, even if I have to go the long way.

No matter how many times she throws the phrase “midlife crisis” at me, I cannot forgive him. He’s a jerk who is choosing some strange woman over his children. There is no condition which should induce someone to do that. He should have been stronger. I want to tell him to “fuck off!” but I can’t because he has the money. Isn’t that a cruel twist? He leaves us and we’re not even allowed to hate him. At least we’re allowed to hate his family. Fuckwits.

&#look at the stars;;look how they shine for you#&

It’s been six years and still I think about you all the time.

Your choice that day has forever impacted my life in more ways than others would think.

Sometimes I wonder about what you would’ve become. You were so loved.

I miss you x

&#i ask somebody what the time is;;but time doesn’t matter to them yet#&

For all the pain you feel, someone is being tortured more.

For every day you ache, someone has been and will be hurting longer.

Nothing in life is really that bad.

Every obstacle just needs perspective.

No, I am not talking about the fires, or my parents.

Every moment, with every single thought am I with her.